A Pound of Flesh
by The Creature
Summary: "One half of me is yours, the other half yours / Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, / And so all yours." - William Shakespeare, "The Merchant of Venice" (3.2. 17-9) Loki/Sigyn


"Loki?" a voice whispered through the darkness of the dungeons of Asgard and a bound figure that had previously lay still as stone upon the straw-covered floor raised his head with a jolting motion.

Unable to reply to the soft voice that called his name through the blackness the man struggled to his knees and reached as close to the metal bars of his cage as he could get, allowing his chains to clank against the staves.

He heard a tiny rustling noise nearby to his cell and squinted as a faint light began to come into view. His eyes, not adjusted to even the dim glow of the beeswax candle, watered painfully as the tiny creature clutching tight to the handle of the iron candelabrum moved closer to his place of entrapment.

Averting his gaze from the garish light, the man instead favoured the action of staring fixedly at the dirty straw that lay over the cold, stone floor of his prison. But, the small being with the soft voice would have none of this.

"Loki…" the voice whispered once again, this time filled with concern.

Loki heard the soft clanking of metal against metal and then the familiar sound of a key sliding into a lock and turning just so.

The high-pitched creaking of the door alerted the chained man that the door to his cell had been opened and the sound of bare feet crunching atop the dead straw caused his breathing to quicken in fear for what this soft presence might do once his true form was revealed.

A small, calloused hand fell to his bare shoulder and Loki jolted away from the touch, still not looking upon the creature that had joined him behind the bars of his prison.

"Loki," the voice said once more, "Look at me."

The man obeyed ever so slowly, taking his time to move his eyes up over the bare feet, passing across a ceil coloured dress that reached just under the being's knees. Up his eyes travelled over the petite though wiry frame and finally rested upon the face of a female, caught between girlishness and womanhood. Her thin lips were chapped and her nose and chin pointed sharply. Her white-gold hair was hacked short and fell messily over her steely blue eyes that were set in her light olive skin. She leaned down closer to brush her roughly padded fingers across Loki's cheek and he took notice of a spattering of freckles dancing delicately across her face.

Unable to speak with the threads that replaced his muzzle held his lips so tightly in place he was only able to lean into her touch and watch her sky coloured irises carefully.

"You are a Jotun." She understood as she gazed into his blood red eyes and brushed her hands over the ridges that now intricately marked his skin as that of a frost giant.

Loki studied Sigyn's expression carefully as she took in the true nature of her husband, expecting her to soon stand and leave him forever. But, instead he was surprised to feel her lips press upon his gently as she kissed his scarring mouth.

Unable to do much else, he closed his eyes and allowed her thin arms to envelope him as he felt his heart rate steadily rising the more passionate Sigyn became.

Her lips had left his own and had made their way across his jawline before she began to slowly nibble upon his earlobe. Loki felt what little heat his body produced rushing to his groin as his moan was muffled by the tightness of the thread that held his lips shut.

Suddenly as it had begun, Sigyn was gone from Loki who opened his eyes in search of his wife, hoping by the Norns that she had not left him alone out of some form of pitying disgust for the man she had wed. But his fears were for naught as he saw her take one calloused hand, strong due to her Dverger heritage and hardened from the many times her father had taken her and her siblings to work with him in the mines of Svartalheim, with it she grasped the chains that bound him and tightened her grip.

The sound of the twisting and crushing metal squealed painfully against Loki's eardrums but the adopted second son of Odin paid it no mind and he felt his arms be given the freedom to move once more and the chains that bound his legs fall away. He was unable to thoroughly take in the situation before feeling Sigyn embracing him once again; her lips parting as she slowly kissed his Adam's apple.

Loki used his newfound freedom to twist his arms around her and pull her flush against his bare chest. It was common for them to not stand while they kissed, the distance was too great with their at least thirteen inch height difference, but never before had Loki been unable to kiss her back. Never before had the trickster been prevented so completely from whispering into her ear how much he needed her. Never before had-

The lowering of Sigyn's hands caused Loki to halt in his thoughts. Her rough fingers began to caress the ridges that decorated his chest, falling lower still to gently graze his navel until they were _there_.

He could feel her small fingers cupping him through the leather of his trousers. Loki held his breath as theyboth stayed still as statues, him clutching at the ceil fabric of her dress and her cupping his groin in the most intimate way. They stayed that way for but a moment and, to him, the nine realms had all ceased to exist. In that moment there was no Odin sitting mightily upon the golden Hlidskjalf in his silver hall of Valaskjalf. There was no Heimdall standing ever watchfully at the end of the Rainbow Bridge silently waiting for the Bifrost to rebuild itself. No Idunn and no golden apples of immortality. No Valhalla. No Nifleheim. No Hel. Nothing existed outside of him and Sigyn. And then, ever so slowly, his wife's fingers began to move.

Sharply Loki inhaled the dusty air of the dungeons through his nose as he struggled against the threads that bound his lips wishing he could tell Sigyn just how she was making him feel in her menstruations. He, instead, chose to press his forehead onto her shoulder as he melted into her touch.

Those pink lips once again took capture of Loki's earlobe as those nimble fingers spidered their way under the waistband of his trousers. She took him in her hand, digits wrapping around his length.

She sighed in amusement causing him to look up at her.

"There are ridges here too…" Sigyn explained with a small smirk as she ran one dactyl over one of the ones closest to the tip. She watched as Loki's red eyes darkened and suddenly his arms had grasped their way below her skirt, pushing it higher and higher up her legs. He slipped his hands beneath the fabric, running his icy hands over her burning skin, his lips curved up as far as the stitches would allow when he triumphantly grasped one small mound of flesh in each hand.

Loki allowed Sigyn to break away from him just long enough for them to drag his leather trousers from his waist and then he was free. She stared at him as if she were seeing him for the first time. Her eyes lowered to gaze at his throbbing member, patterned with dark blue ridges that seemed to pulse ever so softly as his chest went up and down with every breath.

He watched as she carefully came closer to him, straddling him and directing him into her.

He groaned in the back of his throat as her burning heat enveloped him just as she gasped in surprise at the sudden chill.

Loki wrapped his arms around his wife and began to move within her.

Her lips were once again upon his as they continued their dance of love.

* * *

**AU - So, ****_that_**** was interesting.  
But, anyways...Hi! I'm The Creature and you just had the (hopefully) plessure of reading my first ever smut fic that I have posted publicly online. I'm a bit self-conscious about my PWP so please tell me straight up...Is it good or bad?**

**Thanks for reading! Ta!**


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